


The Poems You Make of Me

by twilightstargazer



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 04:05:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10403547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilightstargazer/pseuds/twilightstargazer
Summary: “Hey there wife,” he murmurs, after they part, eyes still shut as their noses brush against one another.“Hmm, hi husband,” she sighs in response, and it sends a thrill through him.or, sappy cavity inducing wedding night smut





	

**Author's Note:**

> i've decided that every time the 100 writers do something dumb, i'm gonna spite write a fic because i have a lot of free time on my hands these days. title from audre lorde's 'recreation'

“I've decided that I never want to do this again,” Clarke says as soon as they’re back in their room, immediately flopping down on the bed with a moan. “It's a pain in the ass.”

Bellamy chuckles, flipping the lock in place, and throws his jacket over a chair where it falls haphazardly. “I'm glad to know you don't plan on divorcing me anytime soon.”

“Nah I'm thinking running away and changing my name before eloping. So much easier.”

“Of course it is,” he humours her, and Clarke kicks one of her shoes at him.

He catches it of course, letting his hand slowly crawl up her leg, the layers of her dress bunching in its wake, and he leans down to capture her lips in a soft kiss that has her melting.

“Hey there wife,” he murmurs, after they part, eyes still shut as their noses brush against one another. 

“Hmm, hi husband,” she sighs in response, and it sends a thrill through him.

Clarke wraps her arms around his shoulders, tugging until he’s half lying on top of her, and kisses him once more. She always feels a little drunk kissing Bellamy, and this time that feeling is tenfold as he cups her jaw, strokes a finger across the line of her cheekbone, lets her lick into his mouth on a sigh.

“Missed you,” she manages to get out when he starts kissing his way down her neck, and she feels the sharp rasp of stubble against her skin when he laughs.

“You’ve had me at your side all day,” he says, looking up at her with a teasing smile. He grabs her hand and brings it to his mouth, pressing a quick kiss to the new ring there. “Don’t tell me you forgot already.”

“I’ve had to share you all day,” she grumbles, twining her fingers through his hair, “It’s not the same thing.”

He just laughs again, scraping his teeth across her collarbone while pushing down the bodice of her dress. “Wanted me all to yourself, eh?” he says in between kisses, mouthing across the swell of her breast, “I don’t blame you; I’m a catch.”

“As if you were any different,” she breathes, tilting her head back for him. “Don’t think I missed all the teasing you were doing this evening.”

It takes very little on Bellamy’s part to get her hot and bothered- a casual touch here, a dorky one liner there, and today’s been full of many of those; his hand virtually glued to her hip, the puns he managed to work into his vows and get a watery laugh out of her in front the minister.

And then there were the more obvious moments, like the hand on her thigh at the reception dinner, the feel of his lips ghosting over the shell of her ear, and perhaps most obvious, the pointed scratch of his teeth on the inside of her thigh as he ducked under her dress to retrieve the garter. He had winked at her after he resurfaced, and her entire body was warm, prickling with awareness as she struggled not to squeeze her legs together.

“I was just excited about my new wife,” he quips, before kissing her hotly once more. “And it’s not like you weren’t giving as good as you got.”

Clarke finds herself biting back a grin. She too may have dropped a few lingering touches her and there during the course of the day. Even so, she still replies with an airy wave, “No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh,” he says pushing up off her, “I bet,” and she winks at him. He rolls his eyes but there’s no hiding the smile that cracks his face. “Come on, up.”

“I’m comfortable here.”

He throws a fond but exasperated look at her. “Not that you don’t look absolutely stunning in your dress, but it’s not really conducive to my plans for this evening. Such as me eating you out.”

A shiver wracks through her body and she can’t help the breathy moan that slips past her lips as she scrambles into a sitting position. Bellamy ducking underneath her skirts to put his mouth on her was one of the many things she thought about today, especially after the garter incident, but he’s right. The simple sheath dress isn’t wide enough to accommodate him and would be more trouble than it’s worth.

He chuckles as he brushes her hair over her shoulder. “Eager are we,” he murmurs as he runs a knuckle down the line of buttons that hold the dress up.

She doesn’t reply, just sighs and lets her head hang forward, giving him room to undo the buttons torturously slow. He runs his knuckles down her spine when he’s finished, letting them catch on each bump of vertebrae, and presses a kiss to the nape of her neck.

Clarke feels like a livewire, already coiled tight and almost vibrating with want, that when he finally steps back, leaving the dress hanging limp off her frame, she doesn’t even bother to push it off before turning around and hauling him down for a messy kiss.

Teeth clack and noses bump, but Bellamy’s lips are soft beneath hers. He clings to her, fingertips tangled in the ends of her hair while his other hand grips the soft material of the dress so hard that she thinks it might become a permanent wrinkle. His control is slipping, and when she rolls up onto her toes, kissing him harder while she pulls at his hair, the last of it disappears, and he’s shoving her dress off, off her arms over the flare of her hips until it’s nothing more than a pool of silk and taffeta on the floor. He lets his hands roam over every inch of newly revealed skin as he pushes her back onto the bed, the kisses getting sloppier and sloppier until they eventually part, breathing hard.

She’s embarrassed for half a second that she’s just wearing a plain bra and panties and not any ‘traditional’ wedding night underthings, but then Bellamy snaps the elastic band of her boy shorts and says, “Cute,” and her worry fades away. They were a gag gift from Raven at the bachelorette party, a pair of simple black underwear with the words ‘lick me until ice cream’ embroidered on the front.

“They’re comfortable,” she defends herself, and feels the muscles in her stomach jump as he trails his fingers along the band, barely touching her. “I love you but not enough to wear full on call girl lingering under my wedding dress. All those snaps and buckles are downright uncomfortable after a few hours much less an entire day.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he says amusedly, leaning down to mouth his way across her tits after getting rid of the bra. “You know I don’t care.”

It’s hard to smirk when he leaves her breasts and starts planting wet kisses down her sternum, his destination obvious, but she manages it anyway. “So you always say, but don’t worry, I bought a new blue little number for the actual honeymoon. I think you’re gonna like it.”

He freezes, tongue half curled into her navel, and then mutters a sharp, “ _ Fuck _ ,” against the soft skin of her stomach.

Bellamy makes it no secret that he likes it when Clarke wears blue, and whenever she pulls on an old periwinkle playsuit, it’s the quickest way to render him speechless and completely at her mercy.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he says as he resumes his mission, pausing only to bluntly bite the bump of her abdomen before going to press a kiss to her hipbone.

She flashes him a sunny smile, hips stuttering in his hold, and says, “But what a way to go.”

It causes her to get a stinging slap to her thigh and she squeaks, even as she feels herself get wetter. “Mouthy,” he tells her with a quirk of his lips. It’s not quite a smirk, but it definitely tells her that he knows what he does to her, and it remains when he finally tugs off her panties to find her pink and glistening.

“You like it,” she says, voice hitching as he using his thumb to spread her wetness around.

“Who doesn’t like a wife with an attitude problem,” he deadpans, and she tries to kick him again. He catches her ankle again, and uses it to press her leg in until it was bent at the knee. “Careful princess,” he says with a dangerous grin as he settles himself between her legs, “I could keep you all night like this.  _ Just  _ like this.” He pointedly flicks his thumb over her clit and her entire body flinches at the motion.

Clarke glares at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“We have all night,” he points out, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh, “And tomorrow, and the day after that too. We have two entire weeks for ourselves up here, and we don’t have to leave this bed  _ at all _ .” He punctuates his sentence with a kiss to her thigh, climbing higher and higher until he’s finally level with her cunt, and Clarke is straining against his hold to grind her hips against his face.

“Bellamy,” she huffs, squirming in his grip when he does nothing, just continues to rub infuriatingly gentle circles into her flesh.

A slow, lazy grin unfurls across his face and he looks up at her through hooded eyes. “You want something, babe?” he asks, voice pitched low, and she bites her lip, certain that by the time he finally gets his mouth on her there’s going to be a wet spot on the bed.

“I think you know what I want,” she says through gritted teeth, “ _ Babe _ .”

He just barks out a laugh at that, leaning up to nuzzle the crease where her leg joined to her hip. “Yeah, I do,” he says, laying featherlight kisses into her skin while his touch continues to drive her mad. “And  _ I  _ think you know by now that I’m gonna make it good for you.” He glances up at her again, one side of his mouth pulled up in a crooked smile. “I make it good for you, don’t I princess?”

She knows just as well how good he can make it. If there’s one thing Bellamy loves, it’s getting her off until she can’t think straight, and his go to method is oral. Sometimes he takes it slow and lazy, and when she comes it’s like a river current pulling her down a stream. Other times he like to draw it out, keeping her on that precipice as long as possible until her limbs are quivering, drenched in sweat, and she’s all out begging him until he takes pity and pushes her over, the orgasm bursting through her like a million fireworks let off inside her body.

Her pussy clenches down on nothing when she thinks about it, and there’s no hiding her reaction from him. “Yeah,” she says, voice shot, “Yeah, you do.” And then, just so he won’t get too cocky, she pinches his side with her toes and adds on, “But you’re always such a dick about it.”

He presses a kiss to her clit, so quick and chaste that she barely has time to react. “You love me,” he says, and his grin is just a glint of teeth before he finally,  _ finally  _ licks into her.

“ _ Fuck _ .” Her back actually bows off the bed, and her hands immediately fly to his hair, scrambling for purchase as he laps at her with broad, sweeping swipes of his tongue. “Fuck, yeah, yeah I love you-  _ god  _ Bellamy.”

He spreads her open with his fingers, letting his tongue fuck into her for a minute before flicking back up to her clit, giving it those quick back and forth lashes that drive her mad. He teases her like that for a while, just using his mouth and tongue while Clarke begs for more, but it’s only when he voice catches on a broken plea of his name that he finally gives in, sliding one finger, and then two, into her cunt, and it has them both swearing.

“You’re always so fucking perfect around my fingers,” he growls out against her clit, “Can’t wait to finally fuck you.”

She can only nod in agreement, words having failed her as she leans back against the pillows and just  _ feels _ .

It gets better when he changes the angle of his wrist, allowing his fingers to rub up in her, getting her keening as she comes closer and closer to the edge. Bellamy keeps running his mouth, but she can barely hear him over her heartbeat thundering in her ears, only catching the tail end of sentences like ‘-fucking beautiful-’ and ‘-never get tired of this babe.’

When he scissors his fingers open inside her, allowing him to thrust his tongue into her cunt, she can feel her skin tingling and toes curled in anticipation as she waits for that final push to send her into oblivion.

“God, Bell-  _ Bell _ ,” she all but sobs, hips jerking up to grind against his face, and he grunts, redoubling his efforts.

It’s only when he finally closes his mouth around her clit, sucking hard that she feels herself shatter, broken syllables of his name tumbling off her tongue as he laps at her, bringing her down with little kitten licks until she finally regains use of her limbs to push him away.

“Fuck,” she pants, watching as he swipes the back of his hand over his mouth.

“I certainly hope so,” he says, smirking, and she groans at his lame attempt at a joke. He’s still fully dressed, slacks on, dress shirt rumpled with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tie lying crooked. It’s a stark contrast to her blatant nakedness as she lies sprawled out on the bed, skin still flushed pink.

“You need to get naked before that can happen,” she tells him and then giggles as she watches him scramble off the bed to undo his pants. He fumbles with his belt for a minute before managing to undo it and push off his slacks, but she stops him before he can undo his shirt, grabbing the end of his tie and pulling him forward so that he almost pitches into the bed.

“Nuh uh,” she says, batting his hands away only to shove him down by his shoulders. “I want you like this.” She draws a hand down his chest, rapidly undoing his buttons as she slides her mouth over his. He still tastes like her, and Clarke makes it her mission to lick the taste of her cunt out his mouth as she pushes the shirt of his shoulders. When she swings a leg over his hips, he pulls away, looking dazed for all of two seconds before the cocky glint comes back in his eyes.

He lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah?” he asks, voice pitched low just to be contrary as he lets his hands settle on her hips, “You wanna be on top princess?”

She tugs the other end of the tie, undoing it, and uses that to pull him forward until their noses are almost touching. “I’m the bride,” she murmurs, curling her fingers into the waistband of his boxers, “I’m supposed to get whatever I want on my wedding day.”

Bellamy just smirks, leaning back and lifting his hips so that she could pull off his underwear. His dick springs up between them and she teases the tip with her finger. “Alright then,” he smiles, letting a hand drift up to her hair, “Whatever the hell you want babe.”

“I want you,” she says before leaning up to give him a smacking kiss while she rubs herself on him, getting him wet, and moans when the head bumps against her clit. “God, I love your cock,” she sighs when she finally sinks down on him and he laughs, low and strained, while his hips flex up into her.

“Just my cock?” he probes, a muscle in his jaw jumping as she braces her hands on his chest and starts to move. “What about the rest of me?”

“We’ve already established that I love you,” she says, rolling her hips and taking him deeper so that they both groan. “Several times today alone in fact. Right now ninety percent of my love is for your dick.”

He hitches an eyebrow, “And the remaining ten percent?” he asks, ducking his head to finally give her tits the attention they deserve.

“Seven percent-  _ fuck-  _ for your mouth and hands,” she says, panting a little as he swirls his tongue around one pert nipple, the hand that’s not holding her hip teasing its twin. “And three percent for miscellaneous body parts.”

“I knew you were only with for me body,” he says, before thrusting up in her hard enough that the headboard creaks.

“You’re the prettiest. It makes for good arm candy,” she says on a moan as he slouches further. It gives her a new angle, filling her up just right. “And besides,” she manages to get out, giving as good as she gets, “Your heart is part of the miscellaneous body parts.”

“I’m not fucking you properly if you can still come up with a line like that,” he says drily, and then flexes his hips again so that the head of his cock bumps into that spot that makes her see stars.

When Clarke finally catches her breath again, she says, “Hey,  _ I’m  _ fucking  _ you _ ,” and then grips onto his shoulders as she gathers her legs underneath her and sits up until he’s almost all the way out of her before dropping back down.

“Jesus  _ fuck _ ,” he swears, head dropping back as his eyes flutter shut. The hand on her hip spasms, the grip growing mean, and she knows she’s going to fingerprint shaped bruises there come tomorrow. Bellamy will most likely press kisses into them when he sees it, murmuring apologies against her skin even as his eyes grow dark. He loves seeing his marks on her.

The thought alone has her repeating the motion, dropping back down on his dick as a moan tears out of her throat and he swallows heavily. “Yeah babe, you’ve proved your point,  _ god _ ,” he pants against her neck, voice rough, “ _ Fuck _ Clarke. Yeah, fuck me princess.”

There’s nothing more that Clarke loves than to see Bellamy rendered near speechless, just a babble of nonsensical praise, especially if it’s under her ministrations during sex. He’s the one who always has something to say, who always has filthy fucking praises just for her, drives her wild with it, but nothing can top having Bellamy Blake completely at her mercy as she plans on riding him into oblivion.

“Yeah Bell,” she pants as her cunt clenches down on him in a way that was only partly intentional. It has him swearing violently, dropping his head on top of her tits while his hands flex again. “I’m gonna fuck you so good baby.”

“You feel so good around me babe,” he groans, glancing down at the spot where their bodies meet, “So tight and hot and wet, fuck I can never get enough of it.”

She shudders at his words and increases the pace, feeling another orgasm start to build deep within her. He’s closer than she is though, can tell by the tendon popping in his neck, and she just has to lean in and get her mouth on it, letting her teeth scrape his skin.

“Come on Clarke, come on,” he murmurs, pressing his hand to her tummy and grinding up into her. It makes his cock rub against her in the best of way and she has to let go of his skin to gasp high in her throat as her insides light up. “I can feel you, princess.”

“Hands, Bellamy,” she whines into his neck, “Use your hands.”

He’s already wriggling one between them before she can even get the full sentence out, accustomed to reading her body’s cues. His fingers find her clit immediately, and a high pitched moan- closer to a scream really- comes from her and her movements turn quick and sloppy as she chases after that feeling.

“Yes, like that,” she gasps, clawing at his back, “Exactly like that. Fuck-”

He fucks up into her harder, urging her on in a voice like gravel as he sucks and presses wet kisses to her breasts, and then, with one final swipe to her clit, her orgasm rushes over her in a never ending wave. She cries out something close to his name when she comes, and it triggers his own release, Bellamy groaning low in her ear as he spills himself within her, holding her hips still as the feeble flutter of her cunt through its aftershocks milk him for all that he’s worth.

Clarke slumps down against him, burrowing her face into the crook of his neck while he clumsily pets up and down her spine, both of them struggling to catch their breaths. When she presses a gentle kiss to his neck he shudders lightly, slumping further down the bed so that they were now lying, a tangle of limbs.

His lips find hers, kissing her in that soft, lazy way he only does after sex, when everything is still quiet and rose tinted between them.

One kiss turns into two, then three, and they just lie there, trading languid kisses until it gets a little hard to breathe and they’re forced to pull apart.

“Hey,” he says, nuzzling her cheek. Bellamy lies beneath her, holding her steady with a gorgeous flush beneath his golden skin.  _ Soft _ , she thinks would be the best way to describe him at this moment. Soft, with that fucked out look in his eye, lips pretty and bruised, and hair in complete disarray.

She bumps her nose against his cheekbone. “Hey yourself.”

“I was tryna say something,” he huffs, though he’s smiling, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “You interrupted the moment.”

Clarke ducks her head, hiding her grin. “Aww babe,” she teases, leaning in to give him a quick kiss, “Sorry about your moment. Go on.”

“Well it’s fucking ruined now, isn’t it?” he sniffs, and then tilts her chin up for another kiss, still slow and lazy, but a bit longer than last. “I was just gonna say that I love you,” he says when they separate and she still has her eyes closed. Soft, she thinks again, watching him gaze up at her. “I love you a lot.”

Somehow amongst the tangled limbs and rumpled sheets she finds his hand, and links their fingers together. His ring presses into her skin and she feels like her heart is about to burst from happiness.

“I love you too,” she replies, settling down on his chest. She can hear the thump of his heart beneath her ear, beating in time with hers. “I love you the most.”

He squeezes their hands together, and once more brings it up to his mouth, kissing the matching bands.

“Just another step in our own little forever,” he murmurs against the crown of her head, and Clarke can’t agree more.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [join me in the trashcan](http://hiddenpolkadots.tumblr.com/)


End file.
